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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290518">Hanahaki</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekhmetpaws/pseuds/sekhmetpaws'>sekhmetpaws</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hanahaki Disease, Light Angst, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:00:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,257</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24290518</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekhmetpaws/pseuds/sekhmetpaws</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You made flowers grow in my lungs and, although they are beautiful, I can't breathe anymore.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>He was rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hanahaki</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20231452">Hanahaki</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekhmetpaws/pseuds/sekhmetpaws">sekhmetpaws</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Stupid Potter” Draco muttered “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!”</p>
<p>His head fell forward, tired. His forehead found support on the toilet seat. How disgusting. He would never,  in his right mind, have allowed himself to do that. But he was not in his right mind. His vision blurred. His head hurt. His chest hurt. His soul ached.</p>
<p>He had left the Transfiguration class in a hurry. For a moment, he thought the hoarse, spaced cough would not get in the way. How naive of him. Soon, the crisis turned into an endless series. The professor's serious gaze stared at him, but he didn't have time to see it, leaving the room, spitting gasping excuses, running towards the first place that crossed his mind: The second floor girls' lavatory </p>
<p>His eyes watered when he leaned over to throw up. Again. </p>
<p>Shit.</p>
<p>It was getting worse.</p>
<p>It was getting really worse. </p>
<p>"At least they are not roses" Myrtle had told him. "The thorns would cut you from the inside out." </p>
<p>What difference would it make if they were roses? </p>
<p>Draco rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. Blood.</p>
<p>Fuck.</p>
<p>It was getting worse.</p>
<p>Perhaps it would be better if they were roses.</p>
<p>That nightmare would be over sooner. </p>
<p>Now that he had such close contact, he knew that lilies were a stupidly large flower.</p>
<p>Stupid lilies. </p>
<p>Stupid Potter.</p>
<p>He slid to the floor, tired.</p>
<p>What would his father think if he saw him there, lying on the floor of the abandoned bathroom?</p>
<p>His head found the cold tile of the bathroom floor.</p>
<p>Maybe it would help the pain go away.</p>
<p>Stupid Potter.</p>
<p>Lilies had thick, disgusting pollen that made his mouth bitter and dried his throat.</p>
<p>Stupid lilies.</p>
<p>Stupid Potter.</p>
<p>Draco choked, bringing his hands to his throat, coughing desperately.</p>
<p>He spat out another wide white petal.</p>
<p>Stupid lilies.</p>
<p>Stupid Potter.</p>
<p>He was trying his best to try to hide his condition, but as the disease - yes, disease - progressed to the next phase, everything would be much more difficult.  Draco hadn't needed a doctor to diagnose him. It was more than obvious when he coughed the first petal. Of course, it was a little difficult to come to his senses in the beginning. He could never imagine that something coming out of the old pureblood tales could be minimally real. Still, he was there. The bathroom floor covered in lilies. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth.</p>
<p>Hanahaki:The unrequited love disease.</p>
<p>Draco felt like an idiot just thinking about it.</p>
<p>Hanahaki came from a mixture of Japanese words and literally meant "to throw up flowers".</p>
<p>Like love, the symptoms of the disease grew over time. It could take months or even years for the first ones to appear, but as soon as the first petals came out, everything was lost. </p>
<p>For Draco, the petals had appeared about two years ago. Insistently coughed at inopportune and irritating moments. The pain was more psychological than physical. A bitter and constant reminder. But now, whole flowers were deliberately forcing their way out. He knew it was only a matter of time before reaching the final stage. Right now, flowers were growing on his internal organs, spreading quickly. Maybe petals would begin to blossom in his ears or take root in his veins.</p>
<p>Draco looked at himself startled, afraid to see the hideous lilies growing directly from his wrists. Seeing nothing did not make him more relieved. He covered his face with his hands. It was just a matter of time to reach the last stage ... The flowers would finally be enough to clog his lungs and windpipe, choking him like the words of love never spoken aloud, stuck deep in his throat.</p>
<p>Because Draco Malfoy was deeply in love with Harry Potter and it was killing him.<br/>
....<br/>
He stumbled out of the bathroom. At least this time Myrtle was not there to "help" him with her "advice". He couldn't bear to go back to class now. His throat scraped. He avoided drinking water during the worst crises. The petals clogged his throat and wouldn't let the liquid get down, making it worse. Sometimes he just wanted to scream.</p>
<p>It was necessary to review his options.</p>
<p>Ok.</p>
<p>None.</p>
<p>It's not a good start.</p>
<p>Ok.</p>
<p>There were three options.</p>
<p>First, he could accept death.</p>
<p>Well, that was basically what he was doing at the time.</p>
<p>Next.</p>
<p>Before the final stage, the flowers could be removed surgically. However, the feeling that had caused the disease would be removed as well.</p>
<p>That was one of the reasons why Draco made a point of hiding his condition.</p>
<p>Such a simple solution. So fast. So without consequences.</p>
<p>It is certainly what he would say to anyone who asked him.</p>
<p>No one was worth a painful ordeal like that. A slow and painful degeneration to the certain death by drowning.</p>
<p>Especially that stupid Harry Potter. With his stupid scar.  And messy hair. And those stupid round glasses. And that stupid broom. And his stupid and magnificent jade-colored eyes, his favorite color….</p>
<p>Draco couldn't let go of that feeling.</p>
<p>As much as it hurt.</p>
<p>As much as it was killing him.</p>
<p>The love for Harry Potter seemed to be the only good thing in the world. The only good thing about himself. His only certainty. The only thing that kept him going.</p>
<p>And finally, Harry Potter could return his love.</p>
<p>But, of course, that would never happen.</p>
<p>Draco looked down tiredly, walking down the hall.</p>
<p>The black mark on his arm burned, but his throat had stopped scratching.</p>
<p>The end was near.</p>
<p>He was going to kill Dumbledore.</p>
<p>His father would be proud.</p>
<p>The Dark Lord was going to take over the power.</p>
<p>He was going to die without the humiliation of being rejected by Harry Potter, who would never know about his feelings and perhaps hate him even more.</p>
<p>And Harry Potter, in some miraculous way, would survive as usual, marry the female Weasley and end happily ever after. That thought filled him with melancholy, but deep down, Harry Potter's happiness was his happiness and that was enough.</p>
<p>And talking about the devil...</p>
<p>On his aimless walk, he entered a corridor. His heart ached as he watched the boy who lived absent-mindedly against the wall surrounded by his group of stupid gryffindor friends.He was looking in his direction as well. The brunette's smile made him lose his breath. Draco knew it wasn't  him, but because of some stupid joke that his redhead sidekick must have told him or something, but even so, he pretended to himself that he was motivating that smile.</p>
<p>Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.</p>
<p>Who told him to have hope?</p>
<p>Once again, he felt a sharp pain in his chest when the female Weasley put her hands around the scarhead's face and kissed him.</p>
<p>Draco lifted his nose, both to show his usual superiority and to avoid looking at the scene, for his own good.</p>
<p>He wanted to say something. To offend the female Weasley. He would have given anything to snarl some provocation. But he felt himself choking, his throat filling with flowers, the air missing in his lungs. He walked past them at a quick pace, hitting his shoulder with Gina Weasley's as hard as he could in the process, running away without looking back.<br/>
....</p>
<p>Ronald and Hermione exchanged concerned looks, watching their friend who followed the blonde walk away with distant eyes, without even realizing the presence of the redhead who, surprised, broke the kiss, removing a red petal from her tongue.</p>
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